


Unknown Paths to Unknown Places

by ghostssleep



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Before Corvo was Royal Protector, F/M, Gen, Original Character(s), Pre-Game(s), Prequel, and Jessamine was Empress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostssleep/pseuds/ghostssleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Corvo Attano was not always Royal Protector and not many know of his past. Jessamine Kaldwin knew all his secrets, but they're buried with her now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Streets of Serkonos

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an attempt to write a back story to Corvo and how he meets Jessamine. There's really not a whole lot to be said about Corvo so I wanted to fill in some of the blanks. Was inspired by The Royal Protector book in-game.

Corvo was not highborn. His earliest memories were filled with white paint peeling off of old buildings and shouts from the merchant counters, their goods tantalizing on the tongue that could only be imagined. From early childhood he could remember running down the sunny avenues and trash strewn streets of Karnaca, delivering messages or picking the pockets of the glamorous tourists from dreary Gristol or Tyvia. He could remember waving at the fishing ship that his father was on, staring at the horizon until the boat sailed out the bay and fell off the ocean. The ocean swallowed his father up eventually. 

He didn't know his mother. The other boys called her a whore. He didn't care about a mother not there nor their curses, but he still kicked and punched them anyway. He eventually ran away from the orphanage, wandering the streets like the other lost boys, making coin in odd jobs and stealing. He saw the city change more and more everyday: there were bigger ships in the bay and more of them, the tourists came in droves, their light eyes squinting against the bright sky scoffing at Corvo's silent scowl and grubby hair. The Grand Guard was tightening its grip on the main streets and alleyways and Corvo had to find more ways to fight or flight. 

Corvo remembered one incident in his mid teens when a guard got too touchy on a pat down for stolen trinkets. He broke the guard's wrist, landing him in jail. He was surprised he didn't get cut down right then and there in the street. The aristocrats would have certainly applauded, their pale faces upturned and sneering.

The men in the prison yard were intimidating to say the least. Thieves and drunks and gamblers seemed at home here but Corvo's cutting glare would slice through any taunt thrown his way and his silence would itch at the others like a festering wound. Naturally, he got caught up in the fist fights. Corvo made good use of his street brawling and lithe speed to put down the others' brute strength. He always won. He was just about to finish his short sentence when he got someone's attention.


	2. In the Prison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done with school and I decided to come back to this.

“Look, boy, I've been seeing you in the yard for the past couple of weeks. You have the speed for fighting, not to mention the mind. You have a talent that I haven't seen in years.” Light filtered lazily through the small barred window of the interrogation room.

Corvo examined the Grand Guard captain, a middle-aged man with a white bushy mustache. The lean look of him and the scar running down the side of his jaw suggested he wasn't born into this position. His dark tanned skin told of years of hard work in the sun. Corvo slouched in the stool that the prison guards planted him on. He waited quietly for the man sitting in the chair across from him to continue.

“You don't talk much do you? I hope you're not deaf. Or a mute!” the mustache widened, revealing a hearty smile under it. Corvo didn't think this whole situation was very funny.

“Words... don't help me in most things,” Corvo replied cautiously.

“So you fight your way through? Boy, you might not walk away from the next scramble if the other street urchin pulls out a knife. You should pick your tussles more carefully. It's the reason you're in here in the first place!” the captain chuckled. Corvo thought it best not to elaborate to the captain that he was in here because of his guard’s misconduct. 

The lecture was a new experience though. This man seemed to care for Corvo's well being (however jokingly), something that no one had bothered with in a long time. Of course, the captain's interest in Corvo wasn't unconditional and paternal love. This encounter was going to lead to somewhere bigger than he was now, and this captain wanted to invest in it. What 'it' was was the unsettling question.

“Well, let's not taunt the hound! Getting to the point, the Empire has been cutting funds down here, despite the pasty Gristol elite flooding in, and the quality of my men has been rather lacking as of late. I need new blood and I need it soon. Karnaca needs to make good with Dunwall.”

Corvo felt the prickle from the captain's eyes as he was analyzing him. He took the older man's gaze and held it there, holding his head a little higher. The captain chuckled, the lines near his eyes crinkling. He unlocked the stare and stood up from his chair to turn toward the window. Peering through the bars, the captain continued where he left off.

“Your time here is almost up, and you're at the age where choices need to be made. You could join the rest of the riff-raff and live a short and shit life in the alleyway, or you could be trained to become a Grand Guard. Void, you will probably go far too. Though we would need to bulk you up, it looks like you missed a few meals...”

Corvo sat stiffly on the stool, his back becoming rigid. His whole life he's been on the outside, the outskirts. He stole and cheated and fought for his survival. He never gave much thought to his future if it didn't mean weathering the streets for just one more day. Now this man was going to swoop him up to the top and there was little he could do. Surely die with the rats in the filth or have a vast and unknown path unwind before him? He needed time to think but time was itching to leave him behind if he didn't chase after it.

The captain turned back towards Corvo, his hands clasped behind his back. “Boy, hurry up and make a choice, I don't have all day. I must warn you though, that if you say yes, I'm going to work you to the bone. This isn't an act of philanthropy. So what will it be?”

Corvo looked in himself and knew he was scared. He was frightened of the new years he might have, the time that was shrouded by a dark hand that would only let him peak through the cracks of its fingers. But he was also willing to take a leap; not of faith but of luck. Corvo was going to learn how to use a sword and he was going to slash blindly at the Void to reveal its secrets to him.

Corvo peered up at the expectant man, squinting from the light seeping through the window, and nodded his head curtly.


	3. On The Docks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate feedback and comments!

A rare mist moved into the harbor late in the night before, seeping into the high cliffs looming over the city. As the sun languidly raised itself from the horizon, Corvo patrolled the near empty streets, his boots lightly tapping on the cobbled road running adjacent to the docks. The spare fisherman and street kid waved at the familiar young face in the dark teal uniform. Cool sea breeze blew through Corvo's short hair as he turned to face the docks, scanning the bay for incoming ships. The horizon was bare. With an impatient huff, Corvo finished up his rounds and headed back to headquarters.

Rounding a street corner, Corvo spotted the rest of his squad heading back as well. The older men turned around at the sound of light footsteps behind them and snickered at the sight of the shorter corporal. Corvo's tongue tasted sour in his mouth. While it wasn't protocol, he had made it a habit to slip away from his squad whenever possible. Now he was going to be reminded why.

“Attano, where have you been? Not reliving your ratty lowlife days, are you?”

“Ha! Little shit will always be a lowlife.”

“Don't insult Captain's little crow too much, or he'll cut you down.”

“What does he see in you anyway? The runt shouldn't even be in the Grand Guard.”

Corvo recalled the snotty, toothless boys taunting him in the orphanage years before. He walked down the street steadfast, the rough laughs and shouts becoming distant. At the age of 17, Corvo was the youngest recruit to ever be accepted into the Guard, and though he excelled in all of its demands (more so than most), he couldn't solidify his place amongst the other guards. Corvo's young face and short stature aided to conceal the strength that he had developed in the past few years, but they did him few favors outside the sparring ring. The captain had also ensured that Corvo was to not move up in ranks.

“In due time, you'll find a place that will demand your talent. Right now, you need experience, boy,” the captain had said. Corvo had been on both sides of the alleyway now and he knew the best and worst of both. He thought he had enough experience.

 

Corvo had finally arrived at the headquarters’s offices to change shifts. The bored looking clerk looked up from behind the glass barrier as Corvo clocked out from night shift.

“Before you ask again, no the captain hasn't sent word of his arrival yet,” the clerk said, mouth turned in a frown before Corvo could inquire. “The Dunwall City Watch has received some threats lately and the captain's ship departure got postponed.”

“Were the threats serious?” Corvo asked.

“No, it doesn't seem that way. The whole problem probably got blown up by some paranoid aristocrat. In any case, you should expect him in a few days,” the clerk explained.

“Thank you,” Corvo said with a small grin.

“Ehh...” the clerk replied, waving Corvo away.

At the cramped barracks, Corvo shuffled quietly through the lines of men in cots snoring in the dust motes occasionally lit by the tall windows. Arriving at the cot half filled with books stacked neatly, Corvo sat down and wiggled off his boots. Settling down in the cot, Corvo decided to read a little before sleep.

Picking up his latest read, _Litany on the White Cliff_ , images of swords glinting in the lightning as the rain poured and washed away the blood conjured in his mind. A smoky haze rose from the words of the Abbey of the Everyman's purification of Gristol. Corvo frowned. Overseers sure had sticks up their asses, then and now.

Thank the Void that the Abbey's only real influence in Serkonos was the Oracular Order, which mainly focused on prophecies. But even then, their influence here was limited. Corvo could remember his father and the other fishermen tying whale bone charms to their belts and boats. The city inhabitants often combined the old sea traditions with the new institutions. There were even rumors of enclaves of followers of the Outsider hiding amongst the grape vines in the wine country. Most ignored the Order's town criers, young women deliriously shouting about a crawling foulness that will punish the nonbelievers. Corvo had concluded to be neutral on the whole matter.

Corvo's eyelids slowly shut, book forgotten on his chest, as the other men slowly got ready for the day.

 

Nights later, Corvo scanned the infinite sea for lights glinting off the water. Standing under the street light in the dead of the evening, he must have looked like a ghost, his features obscured with shadow. A deep black body jutted from the cliffs by the bay, slowly shedding the water with white foam. Corvo ran down to the docks to convene in the small night procession for the ship's arrival. The passengers were already departing the ship's platform and Corvo spotted a few uniforms. As the captain walked off, he nodded at Corvo's presence.

“Captain,” Corvo saluted.

“Boy, it's too damn late for formalities,” the Captain said irritably. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced than when he left.

“How was your trip?,” Corvo inquired.

“Well it wasn't vacation. I tell you, those aristocrats are stubborn and pig headed,” was all that he said. If Corvo was being honest to himself, he would admit that he didn't know what the Captain of the Grand Guard was doing in Dunwall, especially with aristocrats.

Suddenly, Corvo stiffened when he heard a commotion in the crowd on the ship's deck. Someone was shoving people aside and there was a shrill scream. Quickly, Corvo wedged himself in front of the captain and unsheathed his sword as shouts came closer and closer. The captain's rough hand pushed him aside as he drew his own sword. When Corvo turned his head, he noticed a knowing, solemn look on the captain. Corvo's stomach sunk. The captain was a walking target. The next several seconds would determine something very definite: someone was going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHOOOOOO?!?


	4. Close Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeaaahhh Daud! Also, nooooo, cause that means someone's gonna die. So this story has gotten out of hand and it will be longer than I originally thought. Sorry if you were expecting Jessamine appearing early. D:  
> Also, I don't know if this fic will be too violent for a teen rating. Read this chapter (this has blood and a character death) and tell me what you think. Thanks for reading!

Through the curtain of people appeared a man, not much older than Corvo, his brown hair cut short much like his. Though he dressed like a dock worker, his dark eyes revealed something different. Those were cold eyes, eyes that knew exactly what they were going to see. Corvo shifted his stance when he spotted the bloody sword in his hand. The crowd's cries of terror dissipated away down the docks, away from the drawn blades. The assassin stepped off the boat and onto the dock, the path clear between himself and his target, city lights bursting effervescent oranges and yellows behind him. Corvo imagined the blue and black sea and the stars glowing behind himself and the captain.

In the precious few moments before the gap closed, Corvo noted the surroundings: this was a perfect gentleman's duel, if they were using foils. But the captain and the man both held sabers, used for hacking and slashing, as well as stabbing. And here, on the short width of the dock's wood, there was no room for evading and tricks and error. If you fell off the dock's tall height, you would be easy prey to a bullet. This was the perfect death trap. The assassin was either the most stupid kill for hire or the most dangerous. Corvo's hand grew sweaty on the grip of his sword.

“I have to admit, I didn't think my killer was going to be this young,” the captain commented, as the other man stepped into position. Anxiously, Corvo maneuvered again, angling himself slightly in front of the captain.

The young man's cold expression didn't change but his eyes slid to the side, staring straight at Corvo. “I could say the same for your bodyguard.”

“Oh him,” the captain stepped in front of him again, hand on Corvo's chest, his mustache twitching over a tight smirk. Jerking his head slightly, Corvo locked his gaze with the captain's warm brown eyes. There was a puzzling look on the captain. Almost to Corvo he simply said, “He's more like my protege,”.

Suddenly, with both of his hands, the captain's weight pushed Corvo. Catching him off guard, vertigo thrust on Corvo's body as he fell backwards. Hand tightening around sword, Corvo saw the two men jutting towards each other. Seeing everything sideways, the men disappeared behind the underbelly of wood. Then a rush of sound flooded his ears as he splashed into the water, the harbor drowning his senses. Coming to seconds later, his head breaching the warm ink sea, Corvo could only watch from far below and ask himself _why did he do it_.

With time lost, both were engaged in close quarters now, the locking blades creating a grating sound. The assassin broke it, immediately going for a stab to the captain's middle. The captain didn't parry the man's tight move quick enough and the blade met skin and muscle and bone. A sharp moan broke through as the assassin's blade started to pull out of the captain's abdomen, dark red and sticky. Corvo yelped at how quickly it had happened. He frantically swam to a hanging chain while still witnessing what was going on above.

The captain keeled over grasping at the blade still in him but before it could expel itself out, he quickly whipped his sword upwards, swiping his blade vertically across the assassin's surprised face. With one hand pulling the sword out and the other holding his bloody face, the younger man screamed hoarsely. Corvo had just hauled himself back on the dock, sopping wet, when the man dropped his sword. Just as Corvo was about to attack from behind, the assassin turned for a brief half second and met Corvo's gaze with his uncovered eye. There was no rage in it, but the panicked pain seared through his vision.

The next second he disappeared. Corvo blinked rapidly at the empty spot of where the man was supposed to be. Turning, facing toward the shore, he stared at a sole figure flitting in and out of the air, fluttering further and further away from the harbor's ships. Impossible. And yet he could see him right there and then there and there.

A pained cry pulled him back to reality. Corvo saw his captain sideways in his pool of blood, trying so hard to breath. Setting his knees into the red, Corvo's wet hands grasped at the clammy, shivering face.

“Captain. We need to get help for you,” Corvo said, surprised by the calm in his voice. Looking down at the captain's abdomen, the blood seeping through thread, he knew it was over. Eyes casting his gaze on the young man, the captain regained some focus.

“Corvo,” he managed to whisper out, “Corvo, you need. Need to contact the Duke,”.

Corvo's eyebrows lifted. “What? The Duke of Serkonos? Why doe-,”.

“Contact the Duke. And-and find out who did this. And why,”.

“The assassin? I'll find him and-,”.

“No!,” the captain croaked out, “No, don't pursue the blade,”. The instruction felt final, his last command. Corvo nodded his promise.

Taking the deepest breath he could muster, the captain said softly, “Corvo. World's not kind t'you. Never will,”. The captain's jaw clenched and unclenched, about to say more, but his eyes started to stare at the night sky. His body went limp. Laying his head down slowly, salty water trickled from Corvo's face on to the captain's.

The water's reflection of the street lights and whale oil lamps dimmed faintly and Corvo knew that he was alone in this world again. The Void had swallowed his captain in the harbor and Corvo knew better than to follow him. Standing up from the body, his hands clutching into fists and then releasing, Corvo turned slowly. He had loose ends to tie up.


	5. In the Courtyard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap! I'm sorry about not updating for a while. The writing stagnated when I got all angst ridden about probably-not-important plot points. I caught wind of writing again, so here you go! I'll do better about updating.

Corvo knew how to fight. He knew how to hold a sword and knew when to strike with it. He knew where to position his feet in stances and how to look for openings to his target. In these lethal moments that demanded unwavering concentration, Corvo felt grounded and in control. In these moments, Corvo knew power.

Standing amidst ferns and flowers, Corvo didn't feel like he had any power now. Before him was a portly middle aged man, regal and proud, and Corvo was once again the weak boy in the interrogation room from all those years ago. Despite his clear mission, he was at a loss on what to do. Do you bow or do you salute? Do you have to kiss his hand? And how do you address a Duke? Is it Sir or is it your Dukey-ness? He was pretty sure that last one was _definitely_ not right.

The atmosphere here bled Serkonan, from the lush native plants to the spices filling the air in preparation for breakfast. Weeks after requesting an audience, Corvo was surprised that the Duke of Serkonos would want to meet him in a garden. A very beautiful and massive garden, he noted. In the _domus_ style, the white mansion walls enclosed around a gracious courtyard that could only be seen from the inside. Corvo read in an encyclopedia that this kind of building was easily defensible since all the windows faced inward. Guards patrolled the around on the roof. The family must have favored the form following the function when it came to architecture.

A small cough brought him back from wandering thoughts. The Duke of Serkonos was giving his full attention to the young man in the Grand Guard uniform too big for him with his hands wringing themselves behind his back. “Don't know the proper courtesy to address aristocracy I see, Mr. Attano?” said the Duke kindheartedly. His light brown eyes seemed to brim with patience.

Corvo stiffened to attention. “No... sir,” he replied.

The Duke smiled and waved his hand, dismissing Corvo's awkward formality. “Forgive me for not meeting you earlier. Your mentor and I were close friends. I am the Duke of Serkonos,” he bowed solemnly. Corvo mimicked the movement carefully.

“As you could already probably tell, the past few weeks have been a little... chaotic.”

'A little' didn't quite cut it. The Grand Guard became unraveled trying to find both the assassin and the Captain's replacement. The city could feel the Guard's anxiety, with general crime soaring from the lack of regular patrols. Corvo managed to wrangle some of the Guard to some form of order before the next captain was chosen by the Duke. Despite being the Captain's supposed protege, Corvo was not chosen. Corvo suspected that that was the Captain's doing before he died, but it wasn't like he wanted the position at the ripe old age of seventeen.

As if on cue to Corvo's thoughts, the Duke said, “I suppose you're wondering why I didn't choose you as the new Captain.” A pause. “Did the Captain tell you why you are here?”

Corvo hesitated. What did the Duke mean by 'here'? Here, as in the Duke's mansion? Here, as in the Grand Guard? Here, as in Serkonos? To be honest, Corvo didn't have anything left in Karnaca. All he had was a dead man's wish.

Corvo decided to be simple: “Before the Captain died, he asked me to find out who sent the assassin and to go to you.”

The Duke smiled enigmatically. “Yes well, the Captain seemed to have wanted to hit two birds with one stone. He was always very efficient that way. In a way, I suppose both of his wishes are connected.”

Corvo shifted his feet apart unconsciously. He didn't want to think the childish thought that the Duke was the one to kill the Captain but the way that he said it, he couldn't help but let that thought nag at him.

The Duke chuckled at Corvo's stance. “Mr. Attano no, I didn't kill him. But there was someone that knew about our well, _scheming_ , and decided to scare me off with my friend's assassination.'

Corvo was suspicious about the Duke's involvement in this whole mess. The Captain was a rather straight forward individual. Corvo didn't see that there was room for scheming in him. If he did have a plan beyond that of the Grand Guard, why the Duke of all people?

He didn't want to seem brash, but it had to be addressed. “What was the Captain doing in Dunwall?” he asked.

The Duke really smiled now, his grin going wide. “Asking the very important questions, Mr. Attano. To put simply, he was there for diplomacy reasons. About you.”

Corvo's jaw slacked. He didn't have anything in Karnaca, but he definitely had nothing to do with Dunwall.

Ignoring his obvious confusion, the Duke went on, walking closer to Corvo. “He and I were planning on putting Serkonos on the map, politically. Did you know, most people in Gristol think Serkonans are nothing but merchants and whores?”

The Duke seemed absolutely astounded by the thought. Corvo huffed a little. This didn't clear things up any better.

“Oh, excuse me, I'm getting off track. Anyway, the Captain and I thought that the best way to strengthen all Serkonan ties to the Empire was to implement a Serkonan figure into Dunwall's court life,” the Duke explained.

Interjecting before he could help it, Corvo inquired, “But don't you have a high place in the aristocracy?”

“Well yes, but my duties are tied to Serkonos. The Gristol ruling classes made sure of this when the island ceded with the Empire. I have a high social status in Dunwall, but not much in terms of power. There are checks and balances, and Dunwall is content with Serkonos just being a merchant island.”

Corvo's eyebrows came together in concentration. This still didn't add up, especially to him. “If a Serkonan can't be born into the Empire's court, then how-”.

Corvo remembered then. Under his cot, in an old edition of government ranks, there was an excerpt titled The Royal Protector. They were chosen by the twelve year old ruler-to-be of the Empire and given exceptional prowess in the court. Despite most other titles being passed down family lines, this title of Lordship was given purely by merit and favor. Most importantly, they were the first and last line of defense to guarding the Emperor or Empress. The Duke smirked at Corvo's silence, him inching closer to the young guard.

Corvo broke his formal demeanor completely. “But I-I can't possibly be that-.”

The Duke, now standing next to Corvo, slapped him on the back heartily. “Mr. Attano, my boy, of course you could! The Captain saw it when he first met you and I can see it now today. You are both a superb fighter and a perceptive person. The Captain fondly told of your ever piling stacks of books. Corvo, we needed a Royal Protector candidate, but you can't just groom someone for this position. You showed initiative and dedication and you didn't even know it!”

Corvo felt strangely fulfilled and hollow all at once. There was a lot to take in and there didn't seem to be enough time in the world to filter it. He was certain that these compliments weren't flung around carelessly by the Duke, but was he really that good enough for the future Empress?

Sure, there was not much left for him in Serkonos, but damn it all to the Void. This was like asking someone to sail to Pandyssia blindfolded! But really, what could be the worst thing to happen? A few hurt feelings and some cold weather, maybe. Or a dagger to the heart. The Captain died for him, which meant someone in Dunwall didn't want Corvo meddling with the status quo. Then why should he even bother? Maybe for the adventure, the thrill of it. Maybe to please his heritage and country. Maybe to honor his mentor's memory. Maybe something different entirely. Corvo weighed his push and pulls. There was a lot pushing him toward Dunwall. The Duke's hand stilled on his back as Corvo continued the silence.

“I guess all I can say is, when should I start?,” Corvo said quietly.

The Duke laughed and slammed his hand on Corvo's back again, nearly knocking him over. “Well, Corvo, I invite you to breakfast. I suppose you could learn proper table manners, oh not that you aren't polite, but...”.

Corvo smiled thinly toward the Duke as they both walked away from the quickly rising sun.


End file.
